Second Chances
by CinnamonNutmeg
Summary: When they haul your corpse away, they patch you up and prepare you for the second part of the Hunger Games, the one the Victor escapes in the end. Clove/Cato - Updated weekly on Wednesdays.
1. Prologue

A/n: This will be in an AU where those who die in the arena are pulled out and moved to a Capitol facility. The Capitol experiments on them- although most of the tributes die before their wounds are healed.

This is a Clato fanfic. It will be updated weekly on Wednesdays.

* * *

Clove's fingers strained in their restraints, grasping at air. She emptied her lungs until they finally collapsed to the lurching rhythm of her breaths. "Cato!" she yelled once she had the chance to again. "Cato!"

Her throat felt raw after it all, her yells growing scratchy and rough in the metallic ice of the Capitol's labs. "Poor thing," the scientist cooed, a voice that cut through the post-screaming silence of the room. A little cup of bitter medicine slipped between Clove's lips by force, guided by the hands of her captors.

Clove couldn't see yet, but she could feel the cold fingers within the dent of her head. Her jaw clenched as she felt her skull being pressed out, molded like putty in the doctor's fingers.

"Good as new," the doctor and the scientist said to each other, both of them running their cold hands over Clove's newly formed head in turn. They held a mirror up to her, peeling hre eyes open and handling her like a newborn child.

Her hair was sheered close to her skull, the light fuzz all that remained of the long hair she'd cultivated for so long. Her face was still hers- unchanged, The same dark eyes and the same freckles scattered across yellowed skin.

"Cato," she repeated, his name having lost so much meaning.

"Ooh, I'm betting on him," the scientist said with a grin. "He looks like he has _quite _the vendetta!"

Clove didn't know what that meant, but she played along with eyes following the conversation as it left the Scientist's lips and then the Doctor's.

"Killed the boy from Eleven yesterday!" the gleeful tone made hope rise in Clove's heart. "It was beautiful!"

"Bloody, brutal Cato," Clove croaked.

Both of the Capitol citizens looked over at Clove, brushing some hair from her face and cooing, "Star Crossed Lovers from Two, yes?"

Clove's smile disappeared. _No. _They were not like Loverboy and the Bitch on Fire. They were so much better, so much more focused on their goal.

"We could've won it," Clove murmured, not noticing the duo was gone. _The rule change, we could've won it._


	2. Chapter 1

A/n: I'd like to thank MuffictheEpic (Alice) and my friend Becky for beta reading this chapter for me.

* * *

Clove was allowed free of her restraints every now and then. Her fingers rubbed her wrists, probing the skin for any flaws. Perching on the edge of the table, she watched the wall carefully, sure that the lines were wriggling like worms in front of her- like she imagined Glimmer writhing as the tracker jackers penetrated her with their poisonous stings.

Clove wondered if she made it out too.

The arrangement was explained to her in full by the Scientist, who gestured with big hands on the ends of stick arms. He'd never grown into his hands- not like Cato. Cato had grown up big and strong, the one who could pluck Clove from the ground and raise her above his head without a qualm.

"We're going to run tests on you," he said, "You're going to let us."

"Why?" Clove asked the useless question, her eyes probing the Scientist. For a man who'd been inside her brain, he seemed uncomfortable with looking her in the eye. She wondered if he saw something in there, if all they'd told her about pink mush encased by her skull was all a lie and in fact it was a television, showing everything she'd seen and heard in her life.

She could understand that. If he'd seen all she had, she was sure that he wouldn't be able to look her in the eye.

"Because we gave you life again!" he said with a broad grin. "You're living breathing- this is a miracle! And it wouldn't have been possible if it weren't for ex-tributes like you volunteering for this."

He finally looked her in the eye.

Clove laughed. "I volunteer!"

The scientist's thin lips pressed together and he looked down at his hands. They rubbed against each other as he murmured, "Well, I'm glad you're so enthusiastic. Good behavior gets you privileges… free time in the yard… better food..."

Clove interrupted him before he could get to the final perk, leaning in and whispering, "I'll be the best inmate you ever had."

"Patient, not inmate."

"What's the difference?"

* * *

Good inmate meant not looking for whatever knives were in the room.

Good patient meant staying completely still while they poked holes in your arm with needles as long as a lungful of screams could last.

Good inmate meant not scaring the guards with your words.

Good patient meant lying on your back and not complaining about the food.

Good patient was something Clove could do.

Good inmate was not, but no one noticed.

* * *

They never brought knives, they used scalpels. If Clove could get her hands on one, she could throw it and get her fingers back into working order. She felt numb all over, sagging with each day without any mention of when she'd get these 'privileges' that the Scientist spoke of.

When she asked, she threw words at him like she'd thrown her knives.

"You haven't given me shit, you promised-"

"You'll get it eventually!"

He had her restrained by one of the guards, locked up at the wrists but allowed to pace as much as she wanted. Clove could run from wall to wall and not have enough room to work up a good speed before having to slow down so she didn't crash into the other wall. It drove her crazy. She missed Two, hell she even missed the arena. There were wide open spaces, places to run and laugh and look over her shoulder.

"Who else is around?" Clove inquired, suddenly remembering the tributes from One. Of course, if she was out, they had to have gotten out.

"Um…" The Scientist looked at her. Clove wondered what was going through his head. _C'mon, let the careers together. We won't hurt you, _she thought at him, her eyes boring into his.

He finally answered after a little more wavering about with his words. "Glimmer didn't make it."

Clove solemnly nodded.

"Marvel did, we patched him up good, wasn't my job, but I admire the handiwork."

Her tongue ran lightly over her lips, "Patched him up?"

Her fingers twisted together as she listened to the details of Marvel's new heart. He joked that the materials came from Marvel's own district, one that fell flat as Clove's face stayed neutral.

"You have a strange sense of humor, Clove."

"You have a terrible sense of humor if you think that's funny."

"Call me…" The Scientist gave her his name, but she didn't take it.

Finally, she was allowed out. Good patient, happy patient, allowed into the stale air of the outside. There were only a few other people, dirty and sweaty from whatever tests they were being put through. She scanned their faces, recognizing few. One man's face was twisted around the center – Clove's chest swelled with pride that she'd kept her looks.

There was Marvel- she never thought she'd be so happy to see his smug face again. He blinked at her, squinting and mouthing stuff under her breath. His hands were shaking as she approached. His bright eyes flicked from one corner of the yard to the other, his chest barely moving. There was a slight bulge over his heart- Clove wondered if that was the patching up the Scientist had spoken of.

"Clove?"

Marvel's voice was strained with a metallic echo to it. Shifting to sit in front of him, Clove fiddled with the handcuffs that she'd gotten far too used to by now. _"We can trust you a little," _the Scientist had told her, _"Just… humor us, Clove?"_

"Marvel."

Clove inclined her head, leaning forward as Marvel reached out to wrap his arms around her. When this became appropriate, she didn't know. On occasion in the arena, he'd put his hand on her shoulder when he bent over and laughed- when he used to put his hands on his knees. She doubted that Marvel did a lot of laughing anymore.

"You're not as scary without your knives," he commented with a wry smile. There was the Marvel she knew.

"I can still bite," Clove sneered, pulling her lips up to show that she still had all her teeth. Marvel laughed- again with that metallic undertone that chilled Clove to the bone.

"I dare you!" he grinned, leaning forward and locking eyes with her. His eyebrows rose tauntingly and Clove was tempted to lock her teeth right in that curve where his shoulder met his neck. Or where his neck started to turn into his head. Always so many options-

"Then I wouldn't get to see your pretty face again!" Clove charmed, her lips settling into her trademark smirk. "And wouldn't that be a shame?"

Marvel imitated her smirk- although not to the same effect. Marvel's mouth wasn't made for smirking, it was made for grinning and cracking jokes.

"Is Cato still in the game?" he asked, starting to get serious with their conversation.

She didn't want to share the information, she wanted to curl up with it and be the only one with the knowledge that her Cato was still alive. He was- after all- her District mate, there was no reason any of the other bastards should care about where he'd been, what he'd been doing.

Of course, she didn't have anything but the small tidbit of information. The one hint that Cato could survive the games. There was no way a man like Cato – who so brutally and magnificently killed the boy from District 11 – could lose to the Girl on Fire and her Loverboy.

Marvel's hand was on her cheek, drawing her face to the side so he could look into her eyes.

"Clove," he asked again, "Is Cato still alive?"

Clove pursed her lips, finally saying, "Yes, yes he is. And he'll stay that way."


End file.
